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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865950">find my way back to you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallysunny/pseuds/usuallysunny'>usuallysunny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Daddy Jon, F/M, Getting Back Together, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jon Snow is a Stark, Jon and Daenerys have twins, Jon and Dany grew up together, Marriage, Miscarriage, Mommy Daenerys, Past Relationship(s), Separation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:53:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallysunny/pseuds/usuallysunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daenerys had loved Jon since she was a little girl, unloved and unwanted by everyone else. She was flighty and fiery, he was brooding and aloof, and they didn't agree on much. </p><p>But they did have one thing in common - they really loved each other.</p><p>When tragedy tears them apart, only forgiveness can bring them back together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>613</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>find my way back to you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sneaky Notebook reference in the summary there! This has big Notebook and Marriage Story (but with a happier ending!) vibes. It's also probably the most angsty thing I've ever written which is... saying something. Please, please note the tags about miscarriage! This can be really sad in parts... but I'm all about the happy endings, I promise. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Daenerys stared at the coffee table in the middle of the room, counting the tiny smears in the glass.</p><p>She tried to focus on her breaths - <em>in, out, in, out - </em>but her pulse sounded too loud in her ears. The thumb of her right hand rubbed over her left wrist, gently swiping back and forth in a futile, subconscious gesture of comfort. In her left hand, she gripped the piece of paper tighter before she held it in both. She stared at her messy scrawl, her eyes narrowing like she could will the ink off the page, send it spiralling in a cloud of black smoke so she didn't have to say the words.</p><p><em>His</em> writing would be neat, she thought sourly. He would have expressed himself in succinct but even sentences, divulging just enough. The words he used would be complicated, flowery and sophisticated; there would be some she hadn't even heard of. He would have written them in his sleek, elegant cursive, putting to paper that quiet energy he always carried with him, and Daenerys’ eyes flitted over to him to try and see.</p><p>It was pointless. He'd never let her see. He'd never share.</p><p>That was one of the reasons they were here in the first place.</p><p>"Daenerys?" the therapist's voice sounded too far away, like it was under water, and Daenerys blinked back to reality.</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"You were half-way through what you'd written."</p><p>"Oh right," she breathed, her eyes flitting back to the page. She tried to find her place, tried to remember what had made her lose it in the first place, and her gaze skimmed down the paper.</p><p>
  <em>I love how hard Jon works. I don't love that it kept him away from us for so long, and all the nights I slept alone, but I appreciate the life he gave us.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love the way he loves our children. How he's never shown the twins any kind of favouritism and how he always kisses them on the forehead before he goes to bed, even if they've already been asleep for hours. They love their Daddy with such an intensity it sometimes makes me jealous.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love his family and how amazing they are, even if he sometimes forgets.</em>
</p><p>
  <strike> <em>I love the way he made love to me, how he always made sure I'd had at least two orgasms by the time he'd finished.</em> </strike>
</p><p>
  <em>I love all the parts he hates about himself.</em>
</p><p>"I love how hard Jon works..." she started, clearing her throat, but as she spoke, all that positivity, all that <em>goodness</em>, melted away, fading into the dark.</p><p>She saw the fights, the angry words hurled like weapons, words said in the heat of the moment—not really meant but painful nonetheless. She saw the nights where she cried herself to sleep, the sheets crisp and cold on his side of the bed. She saw the kind expression etched on his face twist into something cruel, a stranger with little left of the man she married.</p><p>For every good memory she had of Jon, Daenerys had two bad ones. She knew there were good things, good times—she'd written them down after-all—it was just harder to remember them.</p><p>"Daenerys?"</p><p>"I don't want to do this anymore," she blurted out, her eyes flying to the middle-aged woman in-front of her. She kept her gaze steady but she could feel the heat of Jon’s eyes on her, could picture the look on his face, all dark with one brow arched.</p><p>"Daenerys, we agreed that if you want to keep this separation as smooth as possible, it's important for your children to feel a relaxed, positive atmosphere between you. More than that, it can be helpful in the darkest times to remember that Jon was once a person you loved very much."</p><p>She had loved him.</p><p>There was so much she didn’t understand, including how they had ended up here, but if she was sure of anything, she was sure of <em>that.</em></p><p>She had loved him since she was old enough to know what <em>love</em> meant, unloved and unwanted by everyone except the Starks. Since she was a little orphaned girl, bouncing around from foster home to foster home until she found some semblance of stability in a home in the suburbs opposite Ned Stark and his brooding son.</p><p>The couple who had taken her in had tried their best, given her food and shelter, but they had been elderly and distant, cold in their affections. They had never hugged her, never told her they cared. Daenerys still remembered the strange tightness in her chest the day she had fallen from the old oak tree on their road and Catelyn had found her, placing a soft kiss on her knee and covering the graze with a band-aid.</p><p>That was one of the most painful things about this—not only losing their marriage, losing <em>him, </em>but losing them too. Ned and Cat loved her, Daenerys was comfortable in that knowledge, but Jon was their <em>son. </em>He wasn’t Catelyn’s by blood, but she had raised him as her own, and he would always come first.</p><p>As she looked at him for the first time, turning her head to see his face impassive, his jaw clenched tight, Daenerys was suddenly struck by the sensation that she was completely, utterly <em>alone</em>.</p><p>Then she remembered her children, saw Alyssa and Ben’s little faces, always so adoring, and she felt warm again.</p><p>"What's the point if we don't both do it?" she shrugged, before she added, "Jon won't do it," for good measure.</p><p>She heard his quiet exhale, a sigh under his breath.</p><p>"I agree there's no point," he rumbled, that voice characteristically low and smooth. It was a voice that might have given her a thrill once, but that was a long time ago, and she had felt nothing since, "obviously we loved each other—we were married. Now we're not going to be married."</p><p>
  <em>Was it obvious?</em>
</p><p>"You never said it," she accused bitterly.</p><p>He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.</p><p>"I'm not sharing if he's not sharing," Daenerys bit out, wincing slightly at how childish that sounded, "I'm sick of giving everything and getting nothing in return."</p><p>"Nothing?" he said incredulously, the first sign of emotion seeping into his voice. It was a slight crack in his cold mask, a chip in his veneer, and it gave her a cheap thrill, "ten years... and I gave you <em>nothing</em>?"</p><p>She couldn't reply to that, because she knew she was wrong. They had been nineteen and twenty-two when they got married, too young to be truly ready. But despite all that, as she had walked towards him, waiting for her at the end of the aisle, Daenerys knew it was right. Then four years later, the twins had come along, and she'd loved him even more. She was confused at how they'd ended up here, torn apart by the inability to deal with what happened.</p><p>Visions seared behind her eyes then, torturous memories she had tried so hard to forget.</p><p>
  <em>Blood between her thighs, pain over the loss of something she never had, the fights, the tears, Jon’s broken voice saying, "I lost him too".</em>
</p><p>She thought the fighting had been the worst, but it was better than <em>this... </em>this cold distance between them.</p><p>He was looking at her like a stranger, rather than a person who had once meant the world to him.</p><p><em>I’ve loved everything about him since I was five years old, </em> Daenerys thought silently, <em>and now I can't remember why.<br/>
<br/>
</em></p>
<hr/><p><em><br/>
</em>“You need to get back out there,” Margaery was insisting, her glass of wine balancing precariously on one knee.</p><p>Daenerys winced, her eyes focused on the glass.</p><p><em>Jon will throw a fit if he comes home and finds a huge red stain on the couch</em>, the thought sparked through her mind before she could stop it.</p><p>She pushed it down.</p><p>Jon wasn’t coming home. He didn’t live here anymore.</p><p>It was difficult to get used to the little things like that, to break the habits of a lifetime. She was just so used to having him around, like an extra limb, her constant. Their lives had always been so intrinsically linked—it was hard to know where he ended and she began.</p><p>But she had to disentangle herself, had to acclimatise to a new normal. Her world had been turned upside down and she needed to adjust.</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>“It’s only been six months,” she said, “I’m not ready.”</p><p>Her best friend arched a brow, the glass now hanging perilously between her middle and index finger.</p><p>“Six months since you <em>officially</em> decided to separate,” she pointed out, “it’s been close to a year since things haven’t been right—and longer still since you shared a bed.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m aware of that—thank you, Margaery,” Daenerys said, her tone clipped.</p><p>Her friend shrugged.</p><p>“I’m just trying to look out for you. You’re twenty-nine, Daenerys, not eighty-nine. You have your whole life ahead of you—and you know what they say about getting over someone.”</p><p>She waggled her brows suggestively and Daenerys sighed.</p><p>“He’s my husband, Marg. I’ve known him pretty much my whole life,” her tone was slightly harder then, tired of this conversation, “it’s going to take more than some random hook-up for me to get over it.”</p><p>Margaery was silent for a moment, her expression softening.</p><p>“Was,” she murmured eventually.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“He <em>was</em> your husband,” her voice was gentle, soft, “you need to get used to saying it.”</p><p>Daenerys’ stomach rolled uncomfortably, her skin prickling with unease.</p><p>“He hasn’t signed the papers yet,” she mumbled, pretending that was the only reason for her slip. Margaery’s brow was quirking again but as she opened her mouth to reply, the front door was opening.</p><p>Daenerys heard her children before she saw them.</p><p>“Mommy!”</p><p>Alyssa ran through the door first, heading straight for her. Daenerys smiled, picking her up and giving her a hug. She held her in her lap and noticed how she bounced erratically. She took her face in her hands and wiped some sugar from the side of her mouth.</p><p>She narrowed her eyes but before she could ask, Alyssa was babbling again.</p><p>“We went to the carnival!” she practically squeaked, “Daddy won us teddy bears and let us eat cotton candy!”</p><p>“Did he now?”</p><p>Daenerys' eyes drifted to the doorway where Jon was closing the door behind him. Ben was hanging off his leg, like he always did, and Jon’s fingers were running soothingly through his curls. True to Alyssa’s words, Ben was clutching two teddy bears under his other arm.</p><p>Margaery hid her awkward expression behind her wine glass as Daenerys stood up, lowering Alyssa to the ground. The little girl bounced on her toes, her movements overexcited and hyper. It looked like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself before she finally skipped over to Margaery and climbed into her lap.</p><p>Margaery cleared her throat, lifting her wine glass away from her.</p><p>“Hi Auntie Margaery,” Alyssa gave her a friendly smile and tugged on one of her brunette curls.</p><p>Jon moved further into the room, quirking a brow and sending Ben a gentle smile when the little boy wouldn’t let go of his leg. He had to shuffle a little and Daenerys would have laughed, had the situation been different. Eventually, Jon gave up and picked his son up, the boy’s legs wrapping around his waist.</p><p>“They’re not going to sleep for hours now,” Daenerys muttered under her breath, her tone low and accusatory.</p><p>“I haven’t seen them for a week,” Jon replied, a rough edge to his voice, “don’t make this a big deal.”</p><p>She blinked at him, trying to push down her irritation. He didn’t want to be the bad guy, she understood that. She knew it was hard for him, not having them to come home to every night. They were trying to do this without lawyers or the courts, to keep it civil and share custody, but it wasn’t the same.</p><p>But even if they weren’t the same family unit as before, they were still family. Equals. He couldn’t just pick them up on the weekend and let them do whatever they wanted and leave her to be the responsible, boring parent. </p><p>“Daddy let us have sweets too!” Alyssa was informing Margaery behind them.</p><p>Margaery arched a brow, her unimpressed eyes focused on Jon.</p><p>“That was very responsible of Daddy,” she said dryly.</p><p>Jon narrowed his eyes and Daenerys watched a muscle in his jaw jump. She wasn’t blind to the fact that her husband and best friend did <em>not</em> get along—and the separation had only made it worse. Jon thought she was flighty and reckless. Margaery thought he was brooding and too reticent. They were polar opposites and they showed their love very differently.</p><p>That was the thing with Jon.</p><p>He could be so unemotional, so quiet and reserved, it was easy to believe he didn’t care. That wasn’t the case at all, of course; he just thought things went without saying. He was fiercely loyal and honourable, and he did love—passionately and intensely.</p><p>He rarely said it and sometimes that was fine—but sometimes Daenerys needed to hear it.</p><p>Especially towards the end, when she was broken and hurting over what they’d lost and she’d <em>needed</em> him. Instead, he’d retreated into himself. She needed to hear that he <em>did</em> appreciate her, and he <em>did</em> respect her career and her dreams as much as his own.</p><p>She knew she had her faults too. Whether it was jobs or relationships or hobbies, she was always searching, always looking for more. He’d worked for the same law firm for five years while she had tried her hand at painting, writing, teaching, and finally advertising. She was never satisfied, always on the move, and just like she couldn’t understand his reticence, he couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just be happy.</p><p>
  <em>“But what if this is it?” she had moaned one night, her brows pulled into a frown.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jon had stared at her, his eyes dark and stormy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What if it is?” he asked, confused, “you have money, food, a home, two beautiful kids and a husband who adores you. What more is there?”</em>
</p><p>She hadn’t been able to answer him then. She still couldn’t answer now.   </p><p>“Come on,” Daenerys held her arms out to Ben, “time for bed.”</p><p>Ben whined and turned his face into Jon’s neck. Behind them, an outraged Alyssa had clearly overheard.</p><p>“No bed, no bed, no bed!” she started chanting, making Margaery grunt as she bounced in her lap and she tried not to spill the wine.</p><p>Daenerys shot Jon a pointed look. He had the decency to look a little apologetic as his arm wrapped around Ben.</p><p>Daenerys tried not to notice his muscles, rippling under his shirt. She had hoped she’d become immune to him—but all these years later and no such luck.</p><p>He shunted Ben higher up his hip as he moved over to his daughter.</p><p>He held a hand out, his expression serious.</p><p>“Come on, baby,” he said softly, “you need to listen to Mommy.”</p><p>Alyssa pouted, her big dark eyes—<em>her father’s eyes</em>—flitting between her parents. Finally, she huffed a sigh of defeat and jumped off Margaery’s lap. She took Jon’s hand and let him lead her into the bedroom. Daenerys watched them go with her arms folded over her chest.</p><p>She didn’t want to watch him tuck them in, watch him kiss them on the forehead and tell them that he loved them. It was too raw; it still hurt too much. He had never struggled to show his emotions when it came to his kids. </p><p>Despite the distance that gaped between them, Daenerys had to admit he was a wonderful father. She couldn’t take that away from him.</p><p>Margaery was looking at her like she could read her mind, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.</p><p>Ten minutes later, Jon re-emerged from the twins’ room.</p><p>“Margaery,” he tipped his chin to her, his tone cool and indifferent, “always a pleasure.”</p><p>Margaery’s smile was more like a sneer.</p><p>“Likewise, Stark.”</p><p>Daenerys tried unsuccessfully not to roll her eyes as she walked him to the door.</p><p>“I’ll pick them up Tuesday?”</p><p>She nodded. “I’ll see you then.”</p><p>His expression was unreadable—<em>the same</em>—as his dark eyes flitted over her.</p><p>“Goodnight, Dany,” he murmured and the name made her ache.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Daenerys was working on a pitch, her brows furrowed at the easel in-front of her, when the doorbell rang.</p><p>She left the twins playing in the living room as she went to answer it, her jaw dropping when she saw who was on the other side.</p><p>“Theon Greyjoy!” she exaggeratedly drew out his name, “hello stranger.”</p><p>Theon was leaning against the doorframe, that famously cocky grin on his face.</p><p>“Daenerys Stark,” he repeated back and she found it too awkward to correct him, “you look as lovely as ever.”</p><p>She smiled, pulling him into a hug. She had to stand on her tiptoes and his body was bony and lean, but it felt good to hold a friend. When she pulled back, his hands were still on her hips. His eyes drifted over her, from her pumps to her ice blonde ponytail.</p><p>He held her at arm’s length and let out a low whistle.</p><p>“You haven’t aged a day,” he smirked; he had been away with the Navy for over a year now but he hadn’t changed either, “the fact that you married my best friend is a travesty.”</p><p>Her smile was tight as she opened the door wider and let him inside.</p><p>“Speaking of—where is my best friend?” Theon looked around, as though Jon could be hiding behind a sofa, “please don’t tell me he’s still a workaholic. It’s a Sunday, for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>Daenerys blinked, her mouth suddenly very dry.</p><p>“Theon…” he turned to look at her, his brow quirking and his expression blank, and it was suddenly very clear.</p><p>He didn’t know.</p><p>Jon hadn’t told him.</p><p>“Jon doesn’t live here anymore,” she said slowly, “we’re separated.”</p><p>Theon stared at her, his expression stunned.</p><p>“How long was I at sea?” he asked, completely baffled.</p><p>“He didn’t tell you?”</p><p>It was a silly question. The answer was clear enough from the look on his face.</p><p>“What did he do?” he asked then, his brows furrowing as he folded his arms over his chest.</p><p>Daenerys sighed, running a tired hand over her face. He didn’t <em>do</em> anything. There was no cheating or lies or betrayal or anything so dramatic.  Maybe it would have been easier if there had been. It would make it easier to hate him.</p><p>“Nothing,” she said, “we just… grew apart.”</p><p>Theon blinked at her.</p><p>“That’s crazy,” he huffed eventually, “you’re <em>Jon</em> and <em>Daenerys</em>. If you can’t make it, no-one can.”</p><p>It suddenly occurred to her that Theon’s surprise must have meant Jon hadn’t told him <em>anything</em>. They had been having issues long before they officially separated—issues Daenerys had shared at length with Margaery and Missandei, shouted about them or cried about them over copious amounts of wine.</p><p><em>Jon had kept it to himself</em>, she realised with an ache in her chest. He’d never shared. It was why his family had been so shocked too.</p><p>“You can ask him yourself tomorrow,” she said, beckoning for him to come further inside. She led him to the kitchen. “I assume you’re coming to dinner?”</p><p>Theon nodded gratefully as he sat down on one of the barstools by the counter.</p><p>“You know I love a Stark family gathering,” he grinned. Really, he loved the attention his stories got from Arya and messing around with Robb like they were still teenagers and gawking at Sansa.</p><p>“I’m just going to drop the kids off,” she said, “I won’t stay and make it awkward.”</p><p>Theon tipped an unimpressed brow.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure Catelyn will let you do that.”</p><p>Daenerys grimaced, knowing what he meant. While Ned was like his son, unassuming and not liking to interfere, Catelyn and Jon’s sisters were still desperate to know what had gone on between them.</p><p>The twins suddenly ran into the kitchen, delighted to see their Uncle Theon. He picked them up, gasping exaggeratedly at how big they'd gotten, and Daenerys tried to put the Stark family dinner to the back of her mind.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
As suspected, Catelyn Stark did <em>not</em> simply let her drop the kids off.</p><p>Two hours after she’d pulled up on the drive, she was wedged awkwardly between Jon’s sisters. Maybe it wasn’t awkward, Sansa and Arya seemed fine and normal, but Daenerys found it uncomfortable.</p><p>She didn’t feel like she belonged here anymore.</p><p>
  <em>“My family love you,” Jon had insisted once, his voice much quieter now they weren’t arguing anymore, “that will never change.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re their son, not me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re still part of the family,” he said, “you’ll always be the mother of my children.”  </em>
</p><p>That was how she found herself, drumming her nails on the oak of the dining table as the adults ate and the kids played in the room next door.</p><p>The Starks had monthly dinners, something Catelyn insisted upon no matter how old they got and how far they travelled, but something was in the air tonight. A little after desert, Jon’s brother Robb stood up.</p><p>“So... we have an announcement to make,” he looked like he was trying to hold in a smile as he glanced down to his wife, Jeyne.</p><p>Daenerys suddenly felt cold, her chest too tight. Judging by the happy, glowing expressions on their faces and the fact that they were already married, she had an inkling what the next big revelation could be.</p><p>“You’re having a baby!” Arya exploded, ruining the surprise.</p><p>Jeyne smiled, her hand gently travelling to her flat stomach. Robb’s eyes narrowed but he was too happy to chastise his sister and then everyone was standing up and congratulating the couple.</p><p>Daenerys swallowed the sickness that rose as bile from the back of her throat. She loved Robb and Jeyne and it wasn’t their fault their announcement brought painful memories hurtling to the surface.</p><p>She forced a smile and embraced Jeyne.</p><p>Over the woman’s shoulder, she caught Jon’s eye.</p><p>The expression on his face was like looking in a mirror.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> <br/>
Jon found her in the bathroom, leaning over the sink.</p><p>She didn’t know why she was surprised. They had always gravitated towards each other, like he was the moon and she was the sun. Ice and fire. She knew he would find her.</p><p>She hadn’t locked the door and he stepped inside, gently closing it behind him. She glanced up to look at him in the mirror, seeing past her own pale reflection to watch him lean against the door. He had his arms folded over his chest and he looked strong and handsome and still.</p><p><em>It’s not fair</em>, she thought sullenly,<em> that he’s still so beautiful after all this time.</em></p><p>He had always been beautiful, but time had made him more so.</p><p>Now a couple of years past thirty, he looked like a man. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he wasn’t small either. He was well muscled and strong and her cheeks flushed with the knowledge of what lay under that suit. It was a body she knew as well as her own. He had black curls and a sharp jaw, framed by a beard just as dark. She didn’t like it when he shaved and he’d always grumble and say it was itchy—but still, that razor never went near him.</p><p>She wondered if he would shave now.</p><p>She wondered if his next girlfriend would prefer it—<em>his next wife.</em> She was supposed to be moving on, yet it felt like she couldn’t breathe every time she thought of it. When she imagined him with another woman; holding her, kissing her, making love to her. Maybe one day, he would find that. Maybe one day, he would marry again and have more children of his own.</p><p>She felt sick… and angry.</p><p>
  <em>Five.</em>
</p><p>He had been her world since she was five years old.</p><p>She had stuck around through his teen angst and the tantrums that moved the earth. She had spent hours staying up with him helping him study for his law exams, and laughing through those three pump days in the beginning. She was there before that jaw was square and sharp. She had loved him as he turned from a horny, unbalanced teen to the cool and collected man he was today.</p><p>She had loved him through <em>everything</em>—and now some other woman would slot into her place?</p><p>She tried to remind herself she had chosen this—she was the one who told him to leave—but she still felt untethered.</p><p>“Are you okay?” he was asking, his voice low and gruff.</p><p>She caught his eyes in the mirror.</p><p>“I’m fine,” she lied.</p><p>He arched a brow, wordlessly questioning her in that way only he knew how.</p><p>“It’s just… all that talk of babies,” she whispered, the word spreading through her chest like wildfire, “it’s still difficult.”</p><p>Something akin to pain flashed across his stoic features.</p><p>He stayed silent.</p><p>Her fingers curled into the sink, her limbs pulling taut. She closed her eyes and thought of the son she’d lost.</p><p>She let herself think the name.</p><p><em>Daemon</em>.</p><p>The doctors had tried their best to explain how it happened—there had been bleeding and no more kicking and talk of not being able to find a heartbeat—but then he was just <em>gone</em>, and she still struggled to understand why.</p><p>She thought of him often. The twins had inherited her icy curls and Jon’s grey eyes and she wondered if Daemon would have been different. She wondered what he would’ve looked like and if he would’ve been fiery like her or calm like Jon and everything he would have accomplished.</p><p>“He would’ve been…” the words lodged in her throat but Jon was finishing the sentence anyway.</p><p>“Two next month,” he said quietly, “I know.”</p><p>She caught his dark eyes again and nodded, her eyes and throat burning.</p><p>“I’m okay,” she said, straightening her back, “I’ll be out in a minute. I just need some time.”</p><p>He stiffened and his jaw kind of slid to the side before he left.</p><p>
  <em>I just need some time.</em>
</p><p>She’d said that once before.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Cersei Lannister was the most intimidating woman Daenerys had ever met.</p><p>She had a huge office full of expensive oak furniture. There were lions engraved in the arms of her desk chair and she seemed to have a ferocious bite herself.</p><p>She was currently crossing one long leg over the other, tossing her poker straight blonde hair over one shoulder.</p><p>“Trust me, I know how you feel,” she drawled, “I was with my narcissist of a husband for ten years before I decided enough is enough.”</p><p>Daenerys folded her hands in her lap, hesitating slightly.</p><p>“That’s terrible,” she said politely, “but Jon isn’t a narcissist.”</p><p>Cersei’s cool eyes searched her.</p><p>“He never put his hands on you?”</p><p>“No,” Daenerys answered quickly, fiercely, “never.”</p><p>“Was he ever verbally abusive?”</p><p>She shook her head. “We had our arguments like every couple, but no.”</p><p>“Any infidelity?”</p><p>Daenerys thought of his secretary, Ygritte. She had red hair and she was brash and confident. Every time Daenerys had met her, she had been unashamed about undressing her husband with her eyes, finding any excuse to giggle and touch his arm. Daenerys had told him as much. He’d always scoff and tell her she was being ridiculous, that even if that was true, he’d never so much as <em>look</em> at another woman. He’d never given her any reason not to believe him—so she had.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Cersei looked almost annoyed by the answer.</p><p>“Well, we’ll need something,” she sniffed, “your husband is a very good lawyer, Ms Targaryen. His reputation precedes him.”</p><p>It was strange to hear her maiden name. She’d been Mrs Stark since she was nineteen—and she’d doodled it in her notebook for years before that.</p><p>“Why should that matter?”</p><p>Cersei looked at her like she was stupid. “Because he knows how to play the game.”</p><p>“I don’t want to play any games,” Daenerys said uneasily, “we weren’t going to even use lawyers, it’s just… Margaery thought I should have a discussion with you at least.”</p><p>“Yes, I represented her against Joffrey,” she said casually, referring to her own son, “I got her half his money plus the house in the Hamptons.”</p><p>Daenerys blinked, stunned, and felt very out of her depth.</p><p>“I don’t want Jon’s money,” she insisted, “I want to do this as fairly as possible. I’d like to stay friends.”</p><p>The woman arched a cool brow.</p><p>“I must admit, that’s not really my expertise,” she leaned back in her chair, the chair that slotted perfectly into this fancy office, built on the pain of others. Daenerys was suddenly struck by the realisation that this was a mistake. “Tell me, Daenerys, what did you expect from your life?”</p><p>She paused.</p><p>“I’m not sure,” she said, because she never had been, “I mean, I never expected to be divorced before I was thirty.”</p><p>“Alright, let me rephrase, what do you <em>want</em> from your life?”</p><p>She didn’t know that either—but she knew her and Jon had hurt each other enough. It wasn’t as simple as not being in love anymore, or not caring about each other. It was more that they couldn’t find a way to make it work. They had tried every which way. Therapy hadn’t worked, all the guidance councillors hadn’t worked.</p><p>Sometimes broken things healed crooked and the pieces didn't fit anymore.</p><p>They hadn’t been able to fix it by talking or fighting or even fucking.</p><p>They just hadn’t been able to fix it at all.</p><p>She was flighty and fickle and she always changed her mind—but she did know one thing for certain.</p><p>This wasn’t the answer.</p><p>Cersei Lannister couldn’t fix it either.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Jon seemed angry the next time she saw him.</p><p>His limbs were pulled taut like the string of a bow, his back stiff as he scrubbed a plate harder than necessary.</p><p>The kids had been put to bed and it was time for him to return to the apartment he was renting. Daenerys hadn’t seen it but Arya said it was all black and grey and there were no pictures anywhere. She said it made her sad.</p><p>“You don’t have to do that,” Daenerys mumbled as he washed another dish.</p><p>He exhaled, dropping it in the sink. The china clanked against the sink, a loud, ugly sound, and Daenerys frowned.</p><p>He turned around, looking stern and annoyed. The kitchen was dark, moonlight streaming in through the window, and he crossed his arms over his chest.</p><p>“I thought we were going to do this amicably,” he said eventually, his voice low.</p><p>“We are?”</p><p>“Cersei Lannister isn’t exactly what I would call amicable,” he practically growled, “that woman is a shark.”</p><p>Daenerys bristled uncomfortably, wondering how he knew.</p><p>“One of my associates saw you coming out of her office,” he clarified and it was strange, unsettling, how he could still read her mind.</p><p>“I’m not hiring her,” she said quietly, “Margaery just thought we should speak.”</p><p>He scoffed—a short, bitter sound.</p><p>“I should have known she’d be behind it.”</p><p>She narrowed her eyes, tired of their bickering.</p><p>“It wasn’t about her,” she insisted, “I don’t know why you’re so angry, I told you I’m not hiring her. I’m not hiring anyone. I said I wanted to stay friends.”</p><p>He blinked at her, his expression slowly turning stormy.</p><p>“Friends?” he repeated incredulously, “you realise she would have cleaned me out? You already have the house, she would have taken everything else. My career, my life, my kids. I’m not letting you take my kids, Dany.”</p><p>His voice was harder than she’d heard it in years, rough and thick with emotion. Alyssa and Ben could stir things in him she’d never seen before, something fierce and passionate. They were the thing he loved most in this world.</p><p>Her anger flared to match his, white hot and intense.</p><p>“As I said—” she bit out, taking a step towards him, “—I’m. Not. Hiring. Her. You’re a lawyer, Jon. You know about this stuff. You can’t blame me for trying to even the playing field.”</p><p>“So it is a game?”</p><p>He practically sneered the words in an angry challenge, making her flinch.</p><p>“I don’t have to tell you everything,” she insisted, taking another step forwards, “maybe it’s nice to hide things, to keep things from you for a change. That’s clearly still your way. You didn’t even tell Theon we were separated.”</p><p>Something flickered over his features, painful and guarded.</p><p>“Why, Jon?” she asked, the atmosphere thinning between them, and she suddenly noticed how close they were.</p><p>She could see the specks of gold in his eyes, the tiny wrinkles around them from his smiles—rare but blinding when earned. She could feel him, all masculine energy and woodsy aftershave and smoke from the cigarettes he pretended he didn’t smoke. She had been begging him to give up since they were sixteen but it had never quite stuck.</p><p>She supposed he didn’t have to listen now.</p><p>He didn’t owe her anything—but neither did she.</p><p>“I forgot,” he murmured and it was a lie. She had always been able to tell. His upper lip twitched and he couldn’t look at her.</p><p>“Liar,” she muttered and she let it go to ask something else instead, “why didn’t you tell him… and why haven’t you signed the papers yet?”</p><p>His eyes snapped to hers then and she almost flinched at the emotion in them, full of darkness and grief.</p><p>His eyes were such a beautiful grey—<em>like storm clouds</em>, she’d tell the twins who shared them.</p><p>She remembered that day around a month before, the day she had laid the brown envelope on his desk.</p><p>
  <em>Ygritte’s mouth pinched sourly as she informed her Jon was out with a client. She had barely looked up from her computer as Daenerys let herself into his office.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Daenerys had taken in the room, the rich oak and dark leather. It was understated, simple and unpretentious. It suited him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She tried to ignore how her hands were shaking as she put the envelope down.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She had angrily signed her own papers after a heated argument between them and maybe it was weird to hand deliver them, but she wanted it over. She wanted it done.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was only when she turned to leave that she noticed the frame on his desk. She picked it up, a painful ache in her chest as she looked at the picture. It was of her and the twins, smiling happily on a beach somewhere. Ben was in her lap and Alyssa’s arms were draped over her shoulders from behind and judging by the length of Ben’s hair and the number of Alyssa’s teeth, she guessed they were around three. More than that, there was a tiny picture tucked into the bottom right of the frame. It was one of Dameon’s first ultrasounds, black and white and grainy, and Daenerys felt a tear roll down her flushed cheek.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They had plenty of photographs of just the twins—and he could have replaced her. He could have shoved the picture in the drawer in a fit of rage. He could have destroyed it. She told herself it didn’t mean anything, that he hadn’t gotten around to it, but then she noticed the picture beside it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was of her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just her—bright eyed and happy and taken when she wasn’t looking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She swallowed past the lump in her throat and rushed out of the office.</em>
</p><p>“You need to sign the papers, Jon,” she whispered.</p><p>She watched a muscle in his jaw jump.</p><p>“Do I?”</p><p>She stilled, her mouth suddenly very dry. Her heart started to beat faster, fluttering against her ribcage. She could hear it pounding in her throat.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>He exhaled, short and a little shaky.</p><p>“Dany, what if we’re making a mistake?”</p><p>She stared at him, a burning sensation behind her eyes.</p><p>“What are you doing? You left.”</p><p>“You told me to go,” he said heavily.</p><p>
  <em>“Just go!” she shouted, pushing at the solid wall of his chest. He didn’t budge, and frustrated tears escaped from her eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dany—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t call me that,” she sobbed, “you’re like stone, you give nothing. I can’t live alone anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She was still crying when she heard the door slam behind him.</em>
</p><p>“And you just did,” Daenerys bit out, “you didn’t even try. You didn’t put up a fight at all.”</p><p>He ran both hands over his face. When he looked at her again, he looked frustrated and angry. <em>But anger was good</em>, she thought. Anger made you feel, made you move.</p><p>“Because I was tired of fighting,” he insisted heatedly, “it was all we’d done for months.”</p><p>“But why?” she bit out, tears stinging behind her eyes, “why were we fighting?”</p><p>He shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. He was shutting down again, wouldn’t look at her, and she wanted to shake him. She needed him to say it. She needed to hear the words. He’d spent so long pretending it had never happened.</p><p>“Why, Jon?”</p><p>He finally turned his head, his jaw still locked.</p><p>“Because we lost our baby.”</p><p>The reply hung in the air, the silence, the widening gap between them.</p><p>Anger licked like flames in her belly.</p><p>“I needed you,” the words came out far weaker than she intended, shaky and broken, “you just shut yourself away.”</p><p>“So did you,” he accused quietly, something delicate and fragile and painful unfolding between them, “we didn’t deal with it properly, we both made mistakes. But what we had… Dany, you only get <em>one</em> of those in a lifetime. We could get back there.”</p><p>His voice was heavy and rough, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for her. Her chest felt too tight.</p><p>“I never wanted this,” he muttered, “you were all I’ve ever wanted. You know that. You were never sure of me the way I was sure of you.”</p><p>That was the problem in a nutshell. His belief in them was unshakeable; hers… wasn’t. She needed more from him, she couldn’t always be left to read between the lines, and maybe it wasn’t healthy to revolve your entire life around someone.</p><p><em>She had never even kissed anyone else</em>, she thought deliriously.</p><p>He took another step towards her and then his hand was on her waist. She closed her eyes, tears stinging behind them, and she was confused and hurting and she <em>missed him.</em></p><p>In this sick, desperate way, she missed him.</p><p>His smile and his hands and his kiss. She missed the smell of his aftershave on her pillow and the grit of his beard sliding over her neck in the morning. She missed how he listened and how he argued and even how he left the lid off the toothpaste—no matter how many times she told him off. She missed the way he looked at her like she was the most important person in the universe and the fierce way he loved their children and the even fiercer way he loved her—but mostly, she missed the way they loved each other.   </p><p>Suddenly there was a creak behind them and Alyssa was at the doorway.</p><p>Daenerys jumped back like she’d been burned.</p><p>“Hi baby,” her voice sounded shaky as she forced a smile, “what’s wrong?”</p><p>Alyssa rubbed at her eyes sleepily. She blinked against the darkness and her face broke into a blinding smile when she noticed Jon.</p><p>“Daddy!” she exclaimed happily, running over to him. He looked shaken too but he got himself in check, catching her in his arms and holding her.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were here,” she babbled, burying her face in his neck, “I couldn’t sleep.”</p><p>His mouth twitched under his beard as he held her close.</p><p>“Can you tuck me in?” she asked innocently.</p><p>He caught Daenerys’ eyes and the sight of them together made her heart ache. She couldn’t say no, not when Alyssa was looking at him like that—like he hung the moon and stars.</p><p>She gave Jon a nod and he brushed past her.</p><p>She watched them go, her daughter and the man she still loved, and she wondered what it would be like to ask him to stay.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> <br/>
“He still loves you, you know,” Catelyn murmured after the next Stark dinner, as Daenerys helped her clean up in the kitchen.  </p><p>She rocked back against the counter, her hands curling into the marble surface and her heart heavy.</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“Because the way he looks at you hasn’t changed,” the woman said, “it’s the same look he had when he was fourteen and he told me he was going to marry you. I raised him since he was a boy—and I’ve never seen him look at <em>anyone</em> the way he looks at you.”</p><p>Daenerys pursed her lips, a sadness swirling in the pit of her stomach.</p><p>She supposed he <em>had</em> always looked at her differently.</p><p>When he was eight and she was five, he looked at her like he wanted to protect her. He always kept her safe and made sure she stayed out of trouble. He loved her like a brother, a friend, a closeness that morphed into something else when they reached their teens. Then, he looked at her like she was something precious, something that inspired awe. He’d never stopped looking at her that way.</p><p>“I feel so lost, Catelyn,” Daenerys whispered then—and finally, <em>finally</em>, she allowed herself to cry.</p><p>It was like the floodgates had been opened, something heady and intense, and Catelyn sighed before she embraced her in a hug.</p><p>Daenerys cried silently on her shoulder for a couple of minutes before the older woman spoke.</p><p>“You remember when Ned was in the hospital a few years ago?” she asked, “when he had that heart attack?”</p><p>Daenerys sniffed and nodded.</p><p>“For a minute there, we thought we were going to lose him—so I said all the things I wanted to say.”</p><p>Daenerys drew back, watching her through bleary eyes.</p><p>“Daenerys, you don’t want anything to be left unsaid,” she said fiercely, squeezing her hands, “I told him I was scared, that I didn’t think I could do this without him. He told me that I could, that I was the strongest person he’d ever met. I thanked him for always being able to make me laugh, and he thanked me for the kids and… we just sat there saying how much we loved each other.”</p><p>Another sob welled in Daenerys’ throat. She had always imagined that would be her and Jon, that they would grow old together, another Ned and Cat—always, <em>always</em> by each other’s sides.</p><p>“It’s so important to say these things while you can,” Catelyn whispered, “because you only get one life… and when it’s over, it’s over.”</p><p>“I do still love him,” Daenerys said and admitting it out loud was like a millstone around her neck had been lifted, “I never stopped. But we’re so broken, I don’t know if we can find our way back.”</p><p>“You can,” she insisted, “you went through something horrendous and you got lost along the way. You just need to remember what you loved about each other in the first place, because you don’t work alone. It’s not easy, Daenerys. It’s not meant to be. If it’s easy, you’ve got no reason to try—and if you’ve got no reason to try, you don’t.”<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
“I want Daddy,” Ben muttered one night, defiant and angry.</p><p>Daenerys paused, her hands hovering over the sheets. She gave a heavy sigh before she finished tucking him in, trying not to let his sad expression affect her.</p><p>“He’s not here, Ben,” she said quietly, “you’ll see him at the weekend.”</p><p>“I want Daddy,” he repeated stubbornly, brows pulling into a frown.</p><p>Daenerys sat back on his bed, unsure how to react. She had worried about this, was almost surprised it had taken this long. They’d been dealing with the separation well, but Ben had always been a Daddy’s boy and he suffered the most.</p><p>Alyssa was watching them curiously from her own bed, her covers pulled up to her neck and her thumb in her mouth.</p><p>“Are you feeling okay?” Daenerys tried, placing a soft hand on his forehead, “you can sleep in my bed if you want—”</p><p>“I want Daddy!” he said, louder this time, and he did feel clammy, but it clearly wasn’t sickness that was ailing him.</p><p>“I know, Ben. But—”</p><p>“I want Daddy!” he shrieked, loud and fierce.</p><p>Silence fell over them as Daenerys recoiled, stunned at his outburst.</p><p>She blinked, wide eyed and shocked, and behind her, Alyssa was crying and Ben had never looked at her like that before.</p><p>“It’s your fault he’s gone,” he said coldly, “<em>ee-grit</em> told me so.”</p><p>Her blood turned cold, her heart leaping to her throat. He struggled with the pronunciation, but it was clear who he was talking about.</p><p>“The lady with the red hair at Daddy’s office?” she asked, but Ben was glaring at her and turning around, burying his face in his pillow.</p><p>Daenerys turned to Alyssa.</p><p>“We went there because Daddy needed to get stuff,” she struggled with the words slightly, “the red lady was talking to us.”</p><p>Daenerys briefly closed her eyes, trying to bite back her fury.</p><p>“What did she say?”</p><p>Alyssa shook her head, like she didn’t think she should say. Daenerys stood and walked over to her bed, gently sitting down and brushing her hair back from her forehead.</p><p>“You can tell me, sweetie.”</p><p>The little girl gave a heavy sigh.</p><p>“Ben said Daddy didn’t live with us and he asked if that was because he didn’t love us anymore.”</p><p>Daenerys felt a burn behind her eyes and temples, a tugging sensation in her chest. It killed her to hear those words, to think of her babies in pain and blaming themselves, and she knew it would devastate Jon too.</p><p>She thought they had been hiding it better than this.</p><p>Before she could comfort her, Alyssa was speaking again in hushed tones.</p><p>“She said it wasn’t that,” she whispered, “she said it was because Daddy didn’t love <em>you</em> anymore.”</p><p>The words were like a punch to the stomach, a stab from a sword and just as painful. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, anger and despair swirling for precedence in the pit of her stomach.</p><p>The anger won out—and she called Jon.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Daenerys knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop as she lingered by the door—but she couldn’t help it.  </p><p>She had practically felt Jon’s fury when she told him, rolling off him in waves. He’d made his way straight over, heading to the twins’ room to talk to them.</p><p>They were both sitting on Ben’s bed as Jon perched on the end, his tone soft and gentle.</p><p>“I want you to both listen to me very carefully,” he started. She couldn’t see them, pressed as she was against the wall, but she could imagine how raptly they’d be watching him, the gentle smile that would be curving under his beard.  </p><p>“Okay, Daddy,” they both said at the same time.</p><p>“My secretary—” he paused, probably realising they wouldn’t understand that word, “—the lady with the red hair… she shouldn’t have said what she said.”</p><p>Daenerys pursed her lips, angling her head so she could hear what they were saying.</p><p>“She said you still loved us,” Ben insisted, his voice small and a little confused.</p><p>“Well, that part is true,” Jon murmured, “I love you both very, very much. More than anything in the whole world.”</p><p>“More than the Direwolves?” Alyssa chipped in, referencing his beloved football team.</p><p>Daenerys covered her laugh with her hand, marvelling at what a clever daughter they had.</p><p>Jon was laughing too and it was a nice sound. She thought he should laugh more. She hadn’t heard it in such a long time.</p><p>“Much more,” he confirmed, and then his voice was turning serious again, “whatever happens between me and your Mom… none of it is your fault. I will <em>always</em> love you—and I’ll always be your Dad.”</p><p>Daenerys felt the words spread warmth throughout her chest.</p><p>“But you don’t love Mommy anymore?” Ben asked, his voice small and sad.</p><p>Daenerys shakily released the breath she didn’t realise she'd been holding. She knew she should walk away; she didn’t want to hear this. It would destroy her to. For some reason, her feet were rooted to the spot.</p><p>She couldn’t move; she couldn’t <em>breathe</em>.</p><p>Eventually, Jon answered, and his voice was smooth and soft.</p><p>“I have loved your Mommy since we were as small as you,” he murmured, “and I’ll never stop loving her.”</p><p>Daenerys’ hand was still pressed against her mouth as she closed her eyes.</p><p>This time, it concealed a sob.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Daenerys paced outside the twins' room.</p><p>She stopped biting her nails as she turned to look at him, folding her arms over her chest as he gently closed the door.</p><p>“They’re asleep,” he said—and she turned on her heel.</p><p>She led him into the kitchen and turned on the light. It bathed him in soft light. He looked very tired. She wanted to hold him and put him in their bed and let their fingertips touch. She also wanted to shout at him. She felt emotions she couldn’t even begin to decipher.</p><p>As always, rage won out.</p><p>Rage was the easiest to deal with.</p><p>“You’ve known that woman a second,” she practically snarled, “a moment. You’ve <em>always</em> known me.”</p><p>Thankfully, he didn’t defend her. He looked as annoyed as she did and one hand came up to rake through his messy curls. They were devoid of the band that sometimes held them back in a bun and he looked younger this way.</p><p>“I’ll deal with Ygritte,” he insisted, a dangerous edge to his voice, “I’m sorry she said that. It was wrong.”</p><p>The next question came flying out of Daenerys’ mouth before she could stop it.</p><p>“Have you fucked her?”</p><p>His jaw clenched, surprise flickering through his eyes.</p><p>“How can you ask me that?”</p><p>“How can I not?” she countered, “I’ve been telling you for years she has a thing for you. You wouldn’t listen. Now she’s trying to turn my kids against me? They’re <em>mine</em>, Jon. They’re not hers. They’re mine.”</p><p>Something hot and possessive flared in the pit of her stomach, jealousy rearing its ugly head.</p><p>He took a step forward, half bathed in light and just as intense.</p><p>“Ours,” he corrected lowly, “we made those babies together. They’re <em>ours</em>.”</p><p>She took a step back, stubbornly matching him until he'd backed her up against the kitchen counter. The small of her back hit the edge, the contact causing a gasp to bubble in her throat.</p><p>His eyes were stormy as they bore down on her.</p><p>“Not hers,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth, “I’m not hers either.”</p><p>Daenerys’ throat suddenly felt very dry, her own gaze flitting between his darkened eyes and his full mouth and back again.</p><p>“No?”</p><p>“I’m yours,” he muttered, “always.”</p><p>And then he kissed her.</p><p>His mouth slanted over hers, pushing her backwards and swallowing the gasp she didn’t mean to make. She felt drunk, dizzy, delirious—and all she could do was push right back. She kissed him desperately, messily. Their teeth clashed and their tongues tangled in a dance they’d perfected years ago; a little out of practice but quickly slotting back into place.</p><p>She felt tears stinging behind her eyelids, her heart pounding in her throat, and <em>god</em>, he could still kiss. His mouth was soft but firm as it slid over hers, tasting of mint and man and something else that was distinctly <em>Jon</em>.</p><p>She felt outside of her body, floating nearby and looking in, as she desperately tugged at his jacket. She pushed it off his shoulders and then his hands were hooking around her thighs, hoisting her up onto the kitchen counter.</p><p>He stepped between her spread legs until she felt him—hard where she was soft, tight where she was pliant and aching. His hands slammed down on the counter either side of her as her frantic fingers unbuckled his belt, the clink as it hit the tiled floor penetrating the heavy silence.</p><p>It was messy and quick.</p><p>They didn’t undress each other or whisper sweet nothings. He didn’t carry her to the bedroom. There was no more talking and no more kissing, their mouths sliding hotly but not quite connecting, as he roughly pushed her underwear to the side and thrust inside her.</p><p>She gasped at the contact as he pulled out and pushed back in, where he belonged… but didn’t necessarily <em>fit</em> right now because it had been nearly a year. She felt full and warm and right, and she held on with her arms around his neck.</p><p>“Dany,” he muttered against her lips.</p><p>“Don’t talk,” she gasped out and it was stupid, ridiculous really, when she had spent their entire lives asking just the opposite, “just fuck me.”</p><p>He hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenching as he complied. She tipped her head back, her ankles locked around his waist, and deep down, she knew they were better than this. Better than a quick fuck against the kitchen counter. But everything they couldn’t bring themselves to say poured out now—all the anger, the hurt, the distance and the pain of missing each other.  </p><p>She came first, with his thumb stroking circles between her thighs and breaking her apart. The pleasure rolled like waves and she was dimly aware of him shuddering in her arms, the grit of his beard sliding over her throat. She cradled his groan there.</p><p>When he finally pulled away from her, she felt empty, aching and alone.</p><p>He couldn’t look at her as he pulled his trousers up. She couldn’t look at him as she adjusted her underwear and slid down from the counter. She winced at the ache between her thighs.</p><p>Silence stretched out in the widening gap between them.</p><p>It was painful, it made her panic, and she held her tears back until he was gone.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
A brown paper envelope was on her doorstep the next day.</p><p>She stared at it, wide eyes blinking, as though if she stared hard enough, it would disappear.</p><p>She bent down to pick it up, her hands trembling slightly. She walked into the kitchen, putting it down on the counter he’d fucked her on. <em>This was it</em>, she realised. The moment she had been dreading since the day she saw him playing in the front yard when she was five.</p><p>She had lost him.</p><p>She opened the envelope and saw his signature on the dotted line.</p><p>
  <em>J. Stark.</em>
</p><p>It was written in his elegant cursive, crude, unfeeling black ink. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and went to close the folder when another piece of paper slipped out. She paused, her brows drawing into a frown as she began to read.</p><p>
  <em>What I love about Daenerys.</em>
</p><p>Her breath hitched when she realised what it was.</p><p>It was a list, the one they had written that day in the therapist’s office. The one she thought he hadn’t written at all.</p><p>Her chest felt tight like a vice as she started to read.</p><p>
  <em>I love how fiercely passionate she is and the little crease between her brows when she’s concentrating.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love the way she challenges me, how she won’t back down and how she always stands up for what’s right.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love her kindness and her selflessness and how much my family love her. Sometimes I forget how great they are and she always reminds me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love how she cries at documentaries about animals and how she makes me laugh. No-one makes me laugh like she does, and I just always, always want to be near her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love what an amazing mother she is to my kids, the best mother I could want for them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love how it was always real. So many years ago, we were just a couple of kids… but we really loved each other. I’ll hold on to that forever.</em>
</p><p>Daenerys had to blink past the tears in her eyes, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.</p><p>There was something else written at the bottom.</p><p>
  <em>I know now that it’s over between us. I know you’ve moved on. You said before that you hoped we could be friends—and I hope for that too someday.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>At the end, our problems seemed so big. There was so much that I wanted to say, but I just couldn’t, and I understand that wasn’t good enough. We were pushed up so close against them, they were stopping me from seeing how much I love you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I get that now. I’m sorry. I wish I could say I would take it all back, but I can’t. I wouldn’t trade the years and the love and the children you gave me for anything. I’d do it all again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I suppose what I’m trying to say is—be happy. I want that with all my heart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because you, Dany… you will always be the love of my life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jon.</em>
</p><p>Daenerys put the paper down, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.</p><p>She stood there for a moment, silent and still, as she felt something slot into place.</p><p>She hadn’t moved on.</p><p>She wasn’t happy.</p><p>She loved him as much now as she did when she was twenty, fifteen, <em>five</em>. Her head rushed, a cloud lifting, and everything was clear for the first time in months.</p><p>She was always searching, always looking for more, she hadn't realised what she wanted, what she <em>needed...</em> she'd had all along. </p><p>She might have changed. He might have changed. But her love for him hadn’t—when all else failed, that had remained the same. Unwavering.</p><p>They just had to make it work again—it made no sense to be apart. </p><p>She grabbed the envelope, dropped the twins at Missandei’s, and headed to Jon’s office.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
She found Ygritte packing her stuff.</p><p>The redhead sniffed and tipped her chin when she saw her, tearing her eyes away to continue clearing out her desk.</p><p>“Mr Stark is in his office,” she grumbled, averting her eyes again.</p><p>Daenerys gave a curt nod and went to knock, but she couldn’t help herself.</p><p>“He fired you then?”</p><p>Ygritte’s jaw clenched.</p><p>“He did not <em>fire</em> me,” she said through gritted teeth, “we mutually agreed it would be best for me to move on.”</p><p>Daenerys fought the urge to roll her eyes before she decided she didn’t care.</p><p>She just wanted to make one thing clear.</p><p>“Ygritte…” she placed her hands on the desk, leaning in slightly, “don’t <em>ever</em> speak to my kids again. Do you understand me?”</p><p>Fire flashed through Ygritte’s eyes.</p><p>She opened her mouth to reply and Daenerys <em>wanted it</em>, she was looking for it, but then Jon was opening the office door behind her.</p><p>“Daenerys?” he asked, his voice quiet and curious.</p><p>Daenerys straightened, setting her jaw. She let her fingers tap on the desk twice before she pushed off it.</p><p>“Have a lovely day, Miss Wilde,” she said sarcastically, before following Jon into his office.</p><p>He closed it behind them.</p><p>He moved over to his desk, gesturing for her to take the other chair as he sat down at it. She did, laying the envelope in her lap and folding her hands over it.</p><p>“Do you want a drink?” he asked after a beat.</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>“I’m fine,” she said, before adding, “you’re getting rid of Ygritte?”</p><p>He sat back slightly, his expression dark and solemn.</p><p>“I didn’t want to risk a lawsuit by firing her but yes,” he said dryly, “what she said to the kids… I’m really sorry.”</p><p>Daenerys shook her head because it wasn’t his fault—not that, at least.</p><p>“Where will she go?”</p><p>He shrugged, uncaring. “I merely suggested it would be <em>mutually beneficial</em> for her to move on. There were… other things, too.”</p><p>“Like?”</p><p>He shifted in his seat. “You won’t get angry?”</p><p>“No, I won’t get angry,” Daenerys lied.</p><p>She watched the movement of his chest as he released a breath.</p><p>“She kissed me,” he said and quickly added, “—or tried to,” at her expression.</p><p>Daenerys tried to stay calm, tried to remind herself they were separated. But the pain was sharp as a knife, twisting in her gut, and she couldn’t look at him.</p><p>“I pushed her away,” he clarified gently, “I said it was inappropriate and I didn’t feel that way about her. But you were right. I should have listened to you.”</p><p>She nodded but didn’t see the point in dragging it out. He wasn’t the first oblivious man and he wouldn’t be the last.</p><p>And she didn’t come here to talk about him and Ygritte.</p><p>“I got your papers,” she said after a beat.</p><p>“I can see that.”</p><p>His voice was hollow.</p><p>“I got your note too,” she whispered, her eyes flickering up to meet his.</p><p>It was heady, intense, something unspoken passing between them.</p><p>“That’s good,” he said brusquely, clearing his throat, “I thought they were things you would want to know.”</p><p>“They were—<em>are</em>,” she said and it was quiet for a moment before she sighed, “God, we really messed things up, didn’t we? We took each other for granted.”</p><p>He blinked at her before his chest sort of caved. It looked like it hurt to breathe.</p><p>“We just got lost,” he murmured eventually, “we forgot what we loved about each other.”</p><p>“We did, didn’t we?” she whispered, almost to herself, “we really loved each other.”</p><p>The corner of his mouth twitched but it was a sad, melancholy smile.</p><p>It looked like he was considering something, like words were burning on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know if he should say them—but he <em>did</em>.</p><p>“I still love you,” he said heavily, “so much.”</p><p>She felt the words in her chest, pulling too tight.</p><p>His eyes were stormy and intense, full of everything he could never bring himself to say. He was a man of few words and none when it came to his feelings, but his <em>eyes</em>. She should have seen it before. They held everything.</p><p>“I love you too,” she said then—because she <em>did</em>, “loving you was never the problem. The problem was I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop wanting you and missing you, even if it didn’t make much sense anymore.”</p><p>She watched him take a heavy breath before he sighed—like he had given up, like he was laying it all on the table, unafraid to be vulnerable.</p><p>“Dany, we could make it right again.”</p><p>She swallowed past the lump in her throat, her eyes drifting to the gold wedding band that he still wore on his finger.</p><p>He’d never taken it off.</p><p>“It’ll be really hard,” she warned, her eyes teary, “we’ll have to work at it every day.”</p><p>He nodded, slowly standing up and unfurling his body. As she spoke, he took steady, even steps towards her—like he was afraid she was going to run away, slip through his fingers again and vanish into the dark.</p><p>“You’ll have to keep letting me in,” she demanded, “I’ll have to be more honest too. We’ll have to tell each other if we’re not happy—and we’ll have to work on it together.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And if we face another tragedy,” she paused, a dull ache in her chest as she thought of Daemon, “we can’t run away again.”</p><p>“No,” he agreed, “we’ll deal with it together.”</p><p>As he reached her, she stood too.</p><p>Her heart fluttered against her ribcage as she glanced up at him, strong and beautiful and <em>hers</em>.</p><p>She felt her stomach clench in preparation for what she knew was coming.</p><p>He took her face in his hands and his lips softly pressed to hers.</p><p>She held his wrists in loose cuffs. His mouth tasted like smoke and mint and tears—his or hers, she wasn't sure.</p><p>He pulled away and his fingers grazed her lips, then her throat.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice catching on a sob.</p><p>He shook his head and pressed his forehead to hers.</p><p>“Me too,” he murmured, “I missed you. I love you.”</p><p>He kissed her again and it was the kiss she had been aching for since she <em>didn’t know when.</em> It was <em>I love you, I’m sorry </em>and<em> I’ll stay</em> all wrapped together in their mouths. It was finally home.</p><p>He gave a little growl and chased her lips when she broke away.</p><p>“There’s um—” she paused, her eyes falling shut, “—there’s been no-one else, you know.”</p><p>His mouth twitched gently under his beard.</p><p>“Me too,” he murmured, “no-one else.”</p><p>“Never?” she checked, even though she knew.</p><p>He had been hers since he was a boy, just as she had been his, and they were each other’s firsts and they would be each other’s lasts.</p><p>“Never,” he said fiercely and kissed her again.</p><p>“Only you,” she sighed, her fingers tangling into his black curls as he kissed her cheeks, her nose, her lips.</p><p>“Only you,” he agreed and she cradled his promise in the hollow of her throat, “forever.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><br/>This was honestly me at the start of this looool but hope the ending made up for it. As always, would love to hear your thoughts! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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